Chapter 2: Painful Things

A/N: Since I forgot to do this in the first chapter.... I own nothing.... except Aria, she's mine to do with asI please. Everything else belongs to Hallmark Entertainment. So don't sue mebecause you won't getanything from it. I'm just a poor authoress who works for mimimum wage. Enjoythe fic.... as a few have told me that they do.

2.2.2.2

When Valentine and I returned to Planchet's, I noticed a somber air surrounded the normally cheery tavern. It was supper time, and the tavern lacked the usual excited crowd of Musketeers.

As Valentine unsaddled her horse, I escaped to my simple hayloft room. I enjoyed my little refuge; it was one of the few things that I could count on. It contained what little possessions that I had, along with a few cherished novels that Mrs. Planchet had given me. Freshening up, I joined Valentine below.

The movement of a shadow behind her caught my eye. It moved carefully, trying to avoid being caught. Something about the way it moved made me think that its target was not me, but Valentine. I decided to wit out the action. It may be cruel of me, but I was intrigued by this shadow.

The shadow's arms then wrapped around Valentine from behind. As she yelped in fright, a deep laugh issued from the hood of the figure. The figure lifted her up and twirled her about. The shadow's hood then swept down revealing,

"Gaston!" Valentine shrieked.

He gave her another twirl for good measure before placing a kiss on her lips. I stood of to the side, trying to blend into the woodwork. Much to my dismay, Valentine noticed.

"Aria, you're going to be with us much more now. You're going to need to be comfortable with everyone." She gave me a look that she must have inherited from her mother.

"Wait… what?" Gaston was clearly confused by his fiancée's statement.

Quietly I replied, "Mademoiselle D'Artagnan has hired me as a maidservant." A feeling of awkwardness soon came over me in the strangest way. Dipping a curtsey, I went into the tavern to help Mrs. Planchet. What conversation that passed between Valentine and Gaston I do not know.

Inside the tavern, I was surrounded by the familiar sight and sound of Musketeers clamoring for their supper. Happily I served; glad to occupy my mind with my task. When Valentine and Gaston entered again, they joined Etienne and Antoine at their table.

Off to the side, a few common city dwellers began an argument. "That was mine, and you stole it from me!"

"How dare you suggest such a thing," another man snapped.

I say it because you did it!" the first man retorted.

Their banter continued for some time, disturbing the people around them, myself included. Then, the first man decided to settle the dispute physically. The two men erupted in a fist fight, and soon their friends joined in.

"Aria, would you take care of that?" Planchet called.

I placed Etienne's supper before him before making my way to the brawl. I elbowed my way through the fighting crowd, oblivious to all around me. A few stray punches found my face, but I ignored them. My father's abuse had been far worse. I managed to get my hands on the filthy collars of the two men who had stared the fight. Dragging them behind me, I spoke a very clear warning over the hubbub of the tavern. My Irish brogue again colored my speech as it always did. "There be no fighting in this here tavern. Leave all disputes at the door, or don't bother coming in at all!" With that little piece simply spoken, I threw them out the front door and on to the city street. Then I turned to the others that had been fighting. "For your own stupidity for joining in, ye will be staying to clean up the mess you caused. Oh, and tell you fellows that they will be paying for the damages."

Mrs. Planchet saw the looks of disbelief that the men wore. "You will obey the good lass. Or deal with me."

I then returned to my duties as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I was pleased with my actions. As much as I hated to get myself involved in conflict, I would if absolutely necessary. No one would abuse me anymore; that had happened far too often in my childhood.

As I cleared Etienne's plate away, he took my arm. "I must say, even Valentine would never have done such a thing. How is it that, though you look so demure, you are able to face such things so fearlessly? You never stuck me a as a fighter."

I smiled at Etienne's kind words. Rarely did a man speak to me as though I was his equal. Even so, Etienne was a good four years older than I. "You are quite right; I am not a fighter by trade, but by necessity. I grew up surrounded by violence. I suppose it has made me unaware of certain things." I would have continued my conversation with him, but I was unable.

"Wench! Get me more wine!" a patron called at me.

"You've had your fill," I retorted.

"I demand more wine, wench! As such, it is your duty to serve me." The speaker paused for a moment then continued to speak in a string of condescending titles. "Slattern, slut, whore, harlot!"

He continued to call me such foul names. It seemed his entire vocabulary was based on those ill titles. It was so reminiscent of my father's verbal abuse that it left me frozen where I stood. Vaguely, I was aware of Etienne standing beside me.

"I suggest you shut your mouth, sir, before I shut it for you."

"Ha! A man defending his whore… how 'romantic'." The man's words dripped with disdain.

Before Etienne could charge the man, Gaston stood to speak. "You dare to slander my fiancée's maidservant?"

While this conversation happened, I stood, mortified. My mind was blank with fear. I had a terrible delusion that the man would suddenly turn into my father and rush at me to beat me. Not long after that thought, I turned around and fled out the back door. As I left, I could hear the sounds of a fight breaking out. I scurried up to my loft room, away from everything that irked me. Burying myself in my bed, I made a childish wish hoping that everything would just go away and leave me be. As my tears subsided, comforted by my little hope, I began to sing to myself, just to calm my nerves.

"The dark sky in her fertile phase

Lifts her veil so I can see her veins

Flowing across the night

She carries change all through the web of life

And weaves her beauty in my eyes

So they don't forget

Visions that she answered me with

And she'll come to me again

Between slumber and wake

After the dream…"

("Radical Seed" by Angelwing)

My heart stopped pounding and my blood ceased coursing violently through my veins. Rolling over on to my back, I let the visions clear from my eyes. The dark visions that my past had instilled in my mind were a disease that I could not seem to be rid of. Try as I might, they would not let up. I could only hope for the day that I would be free. After some time lost in deep thought, searching for an answer, I heard someone climbing the ladder to my left. Turning, I saw Etienne. "May I come up?" he asked.

Sitting up, I gestured for him to come sit by me.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're all right. That man had no right or reason to say what he did." He paused for a moment, probably trying to figure out what to say next. Concern was clearly written on his face, and I was touched by it.

"I'm all right. I just fall apart when someone starts talking to me like that. It's my father's fault really." Etienne looked at me, surprised by what I was saying. Instead of shutting up like I would have normally done, I kept going, feeling comfortable saying this to him. "This all has to do with why I ran out this morning. My mother died when I was six, leaving me with my drunken and abusive father. He used to beat me constantly and abuse me verbally, much like what you just heard. Hearing things like that always makes me freeze up; my mind thinks that he's come back for me." I gave a shuddering sob, and Etienne pulled me into an embrace.

"You've got nothing to worry about now. Valentine, Gaston, Antoine and I will be here to take care of you. You're one of us now… we all take care of each other." He smoothed a lock of my auburn hair away from my face. He held my blue eyes with his brown ones. "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to." The sincerity of his voice was almost overwhelming. "Valentine's wonderful to talk to, but she's got her wedding plans to deal with." His statement made me laugh a little. "There you go. What do you say to a nice warm cup of cocoa?" When my face lit up he laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. Come on, it's on me."

With that, he led me out of my sanctuary and down the street to a little bakery. By the end of the night, I was feeling much better and I also knew that I had found a valuable friend in Etienne. Besides, we made a good gambling pair. At least, that's what Planchet told me.

A/N: Just another little note... please review.... it makes me feel better. Thnaks a lot!